We drank in long, greedy swallows. “I read somewhere that the sun’s getting hotter every year,” said Tom genially. “It seems that pretty soon the earth’s going to fall into the sun – or waft a minute – it’s just the opposite – the sun’s getting colder every year.”
It was indirectly due to Cody that Gatsby drank so little. Sometimes in the course of gay parties women used to rub champagne into his hair; for himself he formed the habit of letting liquor alone.
“I love it, but I don’t see how you live there all alone.” “I keep it always full of interesting people, night and day. People who do interesting things. Celebrated people.”
“Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”